Public Display of Affection
by thegirlwhodidntmakesense
Summary: They were no ordinary couple. They hardly ever showed any sign of affection in public nor the reasons to do so. It took their friends a while to know they were together. In fact, if Combeferre hadn't walked in on them 'wrestling' for their opinions one night, they probably wouldn't even know to this day. Courfeyrac wouldn't stop bugging them about it. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Les Miserables or any of these characters sadly.**

The group had gathered at Enjolras and Éponine's flat all dressed up for the evening. They were going to Musichetta's first leading role at the opera and her boyfriends, Joly and Bossuet, insisted that they all go together. Apparently, with Joly constantly going on about some strange medical condition he could contract from the car air conditioner and Bossuet's _exceptional_ luck, they weren't sure they would make it in time or in one piece.

Enjolras' knuckles rapped the bathroom door three times. "Éponine, we're gonna be late! Hurry up!"

"I'm almost done!" she shouted back from the inside.

He groaned impatiently in response.

Courfeyrac took his free time to wander around his friends' humble abode. It wasn't much. The flat only consisted of one bedroom, one bathroom and a lofty living space. A framed poster of Coldplay's Viva La Vida cover art was hung on one side of the exposed red brick wall (Enjolras insisted that he only liked the cover art, but Éponine once caught him singing to Lost! when he thought she wasn't home). On the other side, there was a poster of exploding TARDIS that Éponine had cherished since her third year of university. A few pictures were scattered around console tables and sideboards. There were graduation photos and group shots…

The problem was that there was no picture of just the group leader and his firecracker girlfriend together. Éponine's graduation photo was of her and Jehan in the robe and cap, grinning ear-to-ear (He was the one who took the picture that time). Next to it was Enjolras' graduation from law school which was taken candidly when he stood back as his fellow graduates (including Marius and Courfeyrac) conversed. The closest they got was having their arms around each other's shoulders on the group photo in Nice, but that was what everyone was doing there.

"Do you guys really not have a photo of just the two of you?" Courfeyrac mused.

Enjolras merely shrugged.

"You're joking!" Bossuet leapt out of his seat (and stumbled) to look at one of the pictures. They proceeded to snicker at the memories of Combeferre's surprise party at Café Musain last year.

"Seriously, you have been together for –" he stopped in his tracks, "How long have you been together?"

To be honest, Enjolras wasn't sure how long they had been together. Hell simply froze over and they were the only two people left standing, he supposed.

Enjolras had always liked to argue. At first, it was to stand up for what he believed in. But he had gotten so good that he began to enjoy it –need it, even. Combeferre and Grantaire were usually the ones to cater to his needs.

But that was before he knew what Éponine was capable of.

When Enjolras based his arguments on logic, Éponine based hers on conscience. He thought, she felt. He was the head, she was the heart. Their arguments were calm, but had a deadly undertone beneath. It was exactly like what an inner battle would look like.

One night, the marble cracked, however. Éponine was getting on his nerves and he snapped like a rubber band. He was pissed at her… so pissed that he shut her up with a hard kiss instead.

The next time they argued, they ended up fucking in the backseat of his car.

It took their friends a while to find out that they were together. In fact, if Combeferre hadn't walked in on them 'wrestling' for their opinions one night, they probably wouldn't even know to this day. They weren't at all conventionally romantic (They hardly ever held hands in public, for God's sakes!), but they were happy. So, the rest of the group decided to leave it at that.

"You don't remember, do you?" Marius assumed.

Enjolras didn't know where to count their relationship from to begin with. It was a few months after they all met Éponine, but that was about it. One moment, they were sleeping together to quit arguing, and the next, they realized that they wouldn't want to be anywhere else –with anyone else.

"It's complicated. Besides, Éponine and I never made a big deal over something so trivial," he replied.

That comment wasn't entirely meant to be a jab at Marius, but Enjolras could see him twitch for a moment. Marius was the kind of guy who would celebrate the 'monthly' anniversary. Enjolras didn't even know there was such thing. Shouldn't anniversaries be celebrated annually? After all, that _was _the whole point of it…

"No offence," he added.

"Every couple is different; it's totally fine," Cosette brushed off with an understanding smile. Contrary to popular beliefs, she was the one more independent one in the relationship.

The bathroom door suddenly rattled and opened. Éponine emerged in a black fitted dress with a dangerously low V-shaped neckline. A silver belt wrapped her small waist, accentuating the curve of her hips. Her dark tresses were pulled up in a sleek twist. In her hand, she clutched a red purse that matched the color of her lipstick.

Joly was the first one to speak up. "I'm trying to make this sound as PG-13 as possible and not give you the wrong impression, but…"

"Bloody hell, Ép!" Grantaire finished the sentence for him.

"Exactly," Bahorel nodded, still gaping at her.

The room echoed with chuckles and expressions of agreement.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she grinned innocently.

"Well, shall we?" Enjolras grabbed his car key and opened the door of his flat.

Combeferre lead the way out and down the stairs with Éponine trailing the farthest behind, half-waiting for Enjolras to lock the door.

"Nice necklace," he glanced at the round-shaped pendant hanging on her chest.

"You got it for me."

"I have a nice taste."

She chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself, Apollo,"

Jehan, a few steps ahead of her, overheard the conversation and tapped Grantaire's shoulder. "Are they for real?!" he whispered.

"I think that's his way of saying 'you look beautiful'," he smirked in amusement.

"Unbe-fucking-lievable," the young poet mumbled.

"Not all of us are like you, Allen Ginsberg," Éponine chimed in, catching up with them.

"I'm not Allen Ginsberg!" Jehan whined.

"Alright, then, John Keats. No need to get your boxer in a twist," she walked past him, tapping his cheek softly.

"Much better," he smiled.

Éponine found herself leaning against the car, palm open. "Keys?"

"It's okay, I'll drive," Enjolras shook his head, clutching the keys in his hand.

"We're in a rush; I'll drive."

"You drive like a lunatic."

"Well, at least this lunatic will get us there in time. You, on the other hand, drive like an 80-year-old woman!"

"No, I don't!" he scowled, "And besides, at least I will get us there in one piece!"

"Guys, guys, guys. Come on," Combeferre jumped in. "Should I drive, then, to make it fair?"

"_**No.**_" they both answered in unison, glaring daggers at them.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, then. Settle it rationally and make it quick, for God's sake. We don't wanna miss the show,"

"You're right," Enjolras gave in, "We are responsible adults. We shouldn't bickering like children,"

"There's only one way to settle this."

Thus, they did what every responsible adult would in their position.

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

Éponine laughed victoriously as her boyfriend tossed her his car keys.

"This isn't over, Athena," he said between his gritted perfect teeth.

She smirked devilishly. "Don't worry, you'll get your payback soon enough."

**A/N: Hello! This is the first fanfic I've posted. It's basically just what I wrote after being attack by all the beautifully heart-wrenching fics I was reading. So I decided to write something lighter (to cure the heartache. Kind of.) Anyway, don't be shy to drop by and tell me what you think because I would LOVE to hear from you. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Les Miserables or any of the characters mentioned here. Although, well, a girl can dream, right?**

Musichetta found her way to Enjolras with a nervous smile at the after-party. Everyone congratulated and praised her for the fantastic debut, but she couldn't help feeling a little insecure. Screw the critics; she was more worried about _his_ opinion. Enjolras loved operas (the guys thought he might have taken his hipster status too seriously) and she was afraid that she had butchered Bizet's _**Carmen**_ for him.

She approached him hesitantly. "How did I do?"

Enjolras, stood among most of the Amis (par Marius and Cosette, who went home early), smiled softly at her. "You did a great job, 'Chetta,"

"Really?"

He nodded in approval.

She tackled him into a hug and squealed expressions of gratitude that he mostly couldn't catch. He gave her an awkward but nevertheless friendly pat on the back. But, as he could almost feel his ribs crushing in her embrace, the friendly pat turned into a frantic tap-out.

"I can't breathe," Enjolras managed to say in a strained voice.

The new leading lady quickly let go of him. "I'm sorry,"

"Look at that; Musichetta got further with Enjolras than you ever did in public," Courfeyrac elbowed Éponine.

She laughed light-heartedly. "Will you just give it a rest, Courf?"

"No, I won't! How are you two even in a relationship?" he wondered incredulously.

"We are; we're just not sappy and sickening like most people are," Enjolras answered simply.

"Oh, right. I forgot that gods do it differently," Grantaire smirked, taking his fourth glass of champagne.

"Now, now, Dionysus…" Éponine patted his hand gently. "We don't want to differ ourselves from our mortal friends, do we?"

"I'm just saying," Courfeyrac shrugged, "Some guy will try to whisk her away from you at some point and you can't just stand idly by."

"I doubt that he will," Bahorel muttered into his drink.

Enjolras didn't feel like he should dignify his feelings for Éponine in front of his friends, so he just rolled his eyes and returned to his mostly untouched champagne.

"What about me? Should _I_ be worried?"

"I think you're good, considering we seriously thought he was asexual before you came along," Combeferre replied, his tone light but convincing.

"We thought he had a thing for justice or books or something like that," Bossuet laughed.

Joly mused, "I wonder if there was such condition…"

"Guys, I'm right here," Enjolras pointed out tiredly –which was quite pointless, ironically, seeing how they _completely_ ignored him.

"All those unsuccessful set-ups have led us to the assumption that our chief here has no preferences at all," Grantaire concluded and sighed in reminisce. "But, no, it turns out he was just clueless,"

"Prude," Bahorel coughed, turning aside towards (coincidentally) Joly.

The young surgeon flipped out immediately. He went on about a deadly disease he might have just been infected with. Bahorel insisted that he was perfectly fine, but Joly pointed out that with how many women he had slept with, it was possible that he might have caught something. Feeling offended that he was being implied as a man-whore, Bahorel retorted with somewhere along the lines of _'just where is the one place with a surprisingly high chance that you could get contracted to some strange disease that someone else picked up on?'_

Things had almost gone back to normal –well, as normal as they could possibly be…

A hand tapped Musichetta's shoulder gently from behind. "They were wondering where you were,"

She turned around to find her heart-throb of a castmate just… looking pretty there.

"Everyone is buzzing about that mesmerizing newcomer who played Carmen tonight," he teased her.

"Is that right?" she blushed lightly. They didn't know if it was the flattery or the man who said it (or both) that made her red in the face.

Unlike the naïve young soldier he played, the man looked more mature and charming in real life. He was a tad older than the rest of them in his early 30's. His suit-clad figure and slicked-back dark hair made him seem so refined. His voice was warm, contrasting with the sharp voices of Joly and Bahorel bickering.

"I'm very sorry, I did not mean to intrude…" he quickly set his eyes down seeing her friends were rather occupied, but those pair of green orbs came to a halt at Éponine's… necklace (or, specifically, where the necklace rested _on_).

Enjolras fought the urge to roll his eyes until he could look up his brain.

"I don't believe you've introduced me to this beautiful lady before, 'Chetta," he said matter-of-factly.

Éponine and Enjolras _had_ missed being introduced to most of Musichetta's castmates to see Cosette off who left early with a fever ("Sure, you do…" Jehan winked discreetly at her).

"I'm Éponine Thénardier," she offered her hand.

"Éponine…" he tasted her name on his tongue as he shook her hand, "I'm Olivier Montparnasse,"

Éponine wasn't one to swoon and fall at men's feet easily. But, a handsome tenor who acted like a charmer sure took her aback a little.

She snapped out of it soon enough. "And this is Enjolras, my… He's my –Well, we're together," she stammered.

"Oh, right. Hello," Olivier offered Enjolras his hand awkwardly, knowing that the guy caught him checking out his girlfriend.

Enjolras shook it and nodded with a tight smile. It was best to keep his silver tongue on a leash than say something that could ruin everyone's evening. _I'd hate to make you cry in front of my friends,_ he thought smugly.

Max turned his attention back to Musichetta. "You better get out there, 'Chetta. A lot of people have been asking for you,"

"I'll be there in a minute,"

"I should be going, then," he then looked at Éponine one last time, "It was very nice to meet you and your boyfriend, _Mademoiselle_," bringing her hand up to his lips.

Éponine hated that she was blushing, yet she couldn't help it. What was a girl to do?

Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras to give him a 'see-what-I-mean?' look, but he was already met with the chief's infamous deadpan. He took it as a sign to not bring the topic up again and started a lighter one.

"Before you go, tell me something," he snaked his arm around Musichetta's shoulder. "I want you to give me an honest answer."

"Shoot,"

He looked around as if he was making sure nobody outside their abstract circle was listening. "Is he here?"

"Who?"

"The phantom of the opera."

Everyone burst out laughing. Grantaire even nearly shot champagne out of his nose.

"You know, the angel of music your father sent you when he's in heaven?"

"Her father lives in Auxerre, Courf. I think that's a bit too far from heaven," Joly laughed.

He shrugged. "You never know. Heaven _is_ a place on Earth, is it not?"

A few of them cringed at his lame pop culture reference.

"Besides, my dad runs an auto shop; I doubt there's any angel of music that he knows of," Musichetta said matter-of-factly.

"You just _had to _crush my dream, do you?" he pouted.

"Let it go, love. He's not here," Jehan ran his hand up and down his boyfriend's back soothingly.

"Yeah," Éponine chimed in, "He's been dead 16 years…"

Courfeyrac's face fell. "You are awful."

"And you're nosy."

Just like that, another silly banter ensued among them. It was almost too easy. Éponine had the upper hand and slowly riled him up. Enjolras just sat back and watched the girl own the young lawyer. _His_ girl.

**A/N: First off, thank you so much for all of your positive feedbacks! It really means a lot to me and please do not hesitate to speak your mind on the review box –good or bad. I need all the criticism and input that I can get. If you have any ideas or anything for this story, feel free to hit me up here or on Tumblr (my url is gooneranalogheart). I'm not quite sure what to do with the story, seeing as I only wrote it as a 'cure' for the heartache I get from the angsty fics I read. I want to make this happy and light, but not up until it's sickening, haha. So, please let me know if it's getting too much!**

**By the way, did anyone catch that Broadway references I made towards the end? :) I just might give a little preview of the next chapter to the one who answers correctly… (assuming that one of you did catch them and are bothered to answer it, haha)**

**P.S. Thank you to Jah for pointing out my error on Montparnasse! I used Max at first, but then I decided to change it to Olivier and.. well, I guess I missed that one *blushes, hides***


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm sorry it's taking so long to update! I will be having my National Exams next week and school's been insane, so apologies for my absence. I probably will not update until next weekend, the earliest (due to the aforementioned National Exams I'll be having) but I will try to write a little in my spare time.**

**I'm not too sure about this chapter. It might kind of suck, I know, and again I apologize for that. I've been suffering from the damned writer's block so please do send me prompts (here or Tumblr, wherever you like) because I really need all the ideas I can get. Thank you for still reading!**

* * *

He couldn't say that it didn't tick him off, because he had been thinking of what Courfeyrac said the whole drive home.

They hardly ever referred to each other as 'boyfriend and girlfriend'. 'Partner' didn't sound right either. There were various nicknames (from the standard 'Apollo and Athena' to things as ridiculous as 'sidekick' or 'co-pilot'). But, of course, they couldn't introduce each other to people as that, could they?

They were just Enjolras and Éponine, simple as that.

There was nearly no sense of possession between them. It never felt necessary; Enjolras still acted like he had no preferences and Éponine was still immune to men trying to get in her pants.

They were just two people who stood independently alongside each other.

_ Was that what a relationship meant?_

Éponine breathed a sigh of relief as she took off her heels and dumped them by the door. It was a habit that she couldn't get rid of. Enjolras had reminded her countless times over the years, but after a while, he gave up and picked up the damn shoes himself. He gave her a look as he put her shoes in the shoe rack and received an innocent smile in return.

A few minutes later, she gave him the same look as she picked up the scattered papers on their bed, setting it down on her desk before settling down under the cover.

Éponine somehow could tell that Enjolras was frowning deep in thought, although she was staring at the ceiling over her head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied dismissively.

"You're thinking."

"I'm always thinking."

"Well, what are you thinking?" she turned on her side to face him.

He took one glance at her, trying to decide whether he should speak his mind or let it slide.

"It's been a while since I last went to the opera. I guess I was taken back to all those previous trips way back when,"

She nodded slowly.

_ Of course she knows you're only stalling._

"That Olivier fellow is certainly something," he said, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.

Much to his surprise, she beamed at him and gushed, "I know, right? He's such a gentleman. And his voice! _Massive_ eargasm –oh, my God, you have no idea…"

It was amazing how often Éponine could have had her foot in her mouth and not realized it.

"Really?" Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. I think I might have… musically came," she grinned proudly at her joke attempt.

_ That's it._

The next thing he knew he was on top of her, attacking her lips furiously. It was instinctive, he guessed. Funny how at that exact moment, he kind of forgot how to breathe.

Éponine pulled away with his bottom lip stuck between her teeth. He could see her self-satisfied smirk on her face when she gently let him go.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"You're cute when you're jealous," she shrugged.

"'Cute'?" he emphasized the word, "I can be many things, _Mademoiselle_, but I can assure you that 'cute' is not one of them."

"Assure me, then, _Monsieur_."

"Very well," he purred, nipping at the corner of her jaw before peppering ghost kisses down her neck.

She could feel his smirk on her soft skin when she moaned impatiently at his cruel teasing. The smirk faded when she grabbed him by the hair harshly and brought his lips back to hers.

The few articles of clothing they had on were soon shed and abandoned carelessly around the room. Also abandoned were all thoughts and worries they had on their minds. They were tangled and intertwined in so many ways that they might as well be one.

His well-sculpted body and her tiny physique fit together in a painful bliss. The sounds that escaped from her lips were breathy and barely audible, while his voice sounded deep and harsh. Whilst they contradicted each other, they also completed one another. They couldn't feel more alive that they might as well be dead. It felt like forever and no time at the same time. They never worked out how things could be so paradoxical between them.

Nor did they care.

Back then, Éponine often wondered if Enjolras was even human (which Grantaire would respond, "How dare you consider this majestic creature to be a mere mortal?!" dramatically). She had never denied the fact that he was good-looking –she wasn't blind after all. But it wasn't his looks that made her think so. His exterior was always so detached and calculated. He was always so proper that it annoyed her sometimes. On most days, to her, he was a cold marble statue with his glorious golden hair, striking blue eyes and a heart of stone.

But, there he was. His body was warm against her skin. His golden hair stuck out in every direction. Éponine couldn't help but brush it away from his beautiful eyes. She found them boring into hers while doing so. His pupils were blown so widely with lust until she could hardly see the blue. His heart was drumming erratically inside his chest.

_ How could a man be so human yet so godly at the same time?_

Éponine, on the other hand, was no marble statue masterpiece like him. She sure was pretty, although not on an angelic scale. Her chocolate brown orbs were warm and insightful. Her dimpled smile was infectious, although the words that came out of her mouth could be vicious if she wanted to. A crease on her forehead would appear whenever she was worried or upset. That was also when she would go snappy at her friends.

It was some sort of defense mechanism, he guessed. Éponine had built a solid wall around her psyche that she hid behind her sweet smile. But, beneath it all, he knew there was another side of her that she kept to herself.

That side of her came out when she was writhing underneath him, and his heart all but soared by the thought that he was the only one she shared this side of her with. Her hooded eyes glinted in passionate desire as her hands ran through his hair, down his arms and chest. Those lips, which were red and swollen from his earlier offense, murmured a string of curses at him like a prayer. He couldn't resist the urge to worship every inch of her skin he could touch with his lips.

_ She was a goddess, and she was __**his**__._

Their train of thoughts went off-track as they found themselves coming undone. She let out a sound so beautiful to his ears that no opera singer in the world could ever match, closing in around him. He stole another hard kiss as he found his release.

"Assured enough?" he asked between panting breaths.

"You're a dick," she giggled.

"I know, I'm an idiot," he murmured into her lips, "And so are you,"

"Guilty as charged."

That was _their_ way of saying 'I love you'.

* * *

Despite last night's little distraction, Enjolras found the nagging thought creeping back into his mind during breakfast the next morning. She almost finished her cup of coffee when he figured she was sensible enough to hold a serious conversation with. He didn't want to risk shouting at each other so early in the day.

"Do you remember how long we've been together?" he asked.

"About four or five years now, maybe; I'm not too sure. At which point did we start being together, anyway? I mean, we've been sleeping together for a while before we finally went 'official'…"

"And when was that?"

Éponine paused as she tried to recall her memory. "I actually can't remember the exact day. Can you?"

He shook his head.

"Why are you asking?"

"Courf and Joly kept bugging me about us and…" he exhaled, praying that she wouldn't take this the wrong way, "What are we, exactly?"

"Some people probably thing we're just fuck buddies who live together because it's convenient. But, from our standpoint, commitment-wise, we might as well be married," she chuckled.

This received a raised eyebrow from Enjolras.

"What?"

"Do you want to?"

"What, get married?"

"Yeah,"

Éponine sputtered around for a bit, "I don't know, I –are you proposing?"

"No! I mean, no. Not that I don't want to; I do, but –Well, actually, I've never thought about it. But if you have and you think it's worth considering, maybe we could –"

She stopped his rambling with a kiss. "Calm the fuck down, Apollo."

"Sorry," he rested his forehead on hers, frustrated that he lost his impeccable oral skills.

She waited for more words from him, but the words never came out. Instead, she found his lips crashing into hers again. Éponine could feel her knees turning into jelly as he frantically moved down her neck. His hands couldn't seem to get enough of her, running through her hair and down her spine before pulling her in closer.

"Enjolras, not now…" she groaned reluctantly at the clock.

His only response was a low hum vibrating on the crook of her neck.

"Look," Éponine pulled his head back by the hair, "We'll get on with this… after work, alright?"

"Lunch," he tried to negotiate.

"Tonight,"

"We're meeting up with the guys later on!"

"Afterwards, then!" she escaped from his embrace and fetched her bag.

Enjolras scoffed. "I hate you…"

Éponine made a beeline back to kiss him goodbye. "No, you don't."


	4. Chapter 4

Grantaire shot his drink out of his nose for real this time. "He proposed?!"

"Well, not exactly," Éponine handed him a napkin. "I don't know, to be honest,"

"What do you mean, you don't know? It's Enjolras we're talking about!"

"He said he's never thought about it before, but if I have and it's worth considering, then maybe we could…" she trailed off.

He raised an eyebrow as he waited for her to finish the bloody sentence. "Go on!"

"That's it! He left it at that,"

"And you didn't ask?"

"The poor sod was rambling, for fuck's sake! It was surprisingly painful to see him struggle with words,"

"I'd pay to see that!" he beamed.

"Trust me, it's not a pretty sight," she grimaced. "I felt sorry for him, so I told him to just calm down and drop it."

"Like it's hot?"

Éponine glared at him in agitation.

"But, he _did_ imply that he was up for it," he quickly backtracked, clearing his throat.

"Who implied that he was up for what?" Courfeyrac sat next to Grantaire, setting down his tea.

"Enjolras. Marriage." Grantaire replied nonchalantly.

The young lawyer's jaw dropped to the floor.

"R, can you not?!" Éponine scoffed.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" he gaped, the corner of his lips turning upwards.

"Apparently not, thanks to you…" she crossed his arms.

"What did I do?" he asked in incredulous tone.

"You kept bugging him about our relationship and he began to over-think things,"

"And so he proposed you?"

"We briefly discussed it."

"You _briefly_ discussed it…" he shook his head, guffawing, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Don't laugh, you prick!" she scolded, "This is all your fault!"

"Hey, you can't blame me for Enjolras' wandering mind. You know how he is,"

Éponine rolled her eyes, silently agreeing to his point. Enjolras had always had the tendency to entertain every possibility in order to plan the best strategy in advance. Although it proved to be useful on a few cases, sometimes it would only freak him or everyone else out.

"You are _not_ breathing a word of this, by the way," she hissed.

"Yeah, sure…" he waved her off.

"I'm serious. I will carve your fucking heart out with a spoon if you do," she threatened gravely, pointing her teaspoon to his chest.

Courfeyrac was just about to open his mouth for self-defense when the object of the conversation slid into the seat next to the girl, resting his arm on the back of her chair. His slender fingers accidentally brushed against her shirt-clad back, making her shiver and glance at him. He returned it with an innocent look on his face.

_ Innocent, my ass._

"Do you mind if we drop by my office first? There's a few paperwork I need to bring home to finish,"

"So, that's what the coffee's for," realization dawned on her.

"What did you think it was for?" Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. We haven't finished that talk we had this morning," she said matter-of-factly.

"You want to spend the rest of the night talking? That sounds boring…"

She snorted. "That's rich coming from you,"

"What else did you have in mind?"

Éponine couldn't fight the wicked smile she was trying to hold back. "Well…"

"For fuck's sake, get a room!" Courfeyrac groaned tiredly, his head slumped onto the table.

"For fuck's sake, fuck off!" she sassed. "Besides, you were the one who wanted us to be more 'couple-y' in the first place."

"I didn't mean wanting to jump each other's bones right in front of us!"

"What can I say? We're not traditional," she fended.

"Look, I get that you guys aren't traditional," he leaned forward intently. "But, don't even _think_ about pulling off 'Sex and the City' and just _discuss_ about whether or not you should get married instead of properly proposing her. That's not democratic, Enjolras; that's _cowardly_. This girl at least deserves a ring –if not a fucking _medal_, for putting up with your shit all these years, no matter what she told you."

Courfeyrac had already braced himself for a rebuttal speech that would last all night and day. But, instead, Enjolras turned to Éponine and said, "You told him."

"Actually, Grantaire did,"

"Oh, so you only told Grantaire? That makes all the difference…" he grumbled bitterly. "Why would you do that?!"

"I was seeking advice!"

"From Grantaire?"

"The man glared at him in a 'what-the-hell-was-that-supposed-to-mean' manner.

"He's my best friend and I trust him!"

"And that gives you an excuse to spill out everything to him?"

"I did not spill out everything!"

"Ah, but, you _did_ spill things out," he pointed out.

"What was I supposed to do, then? I can't just ponder over it on my own like you do, Enjolras. I'll go mad!"

"Well, that escalated quickly…" Courfeyrac murmured to Grantaire before they continued watching the verbal match before them.

Bahorel arrived not long after. "What the hell happened?" he elbowed Grantaire's shoulder. Even the toughest guy in the group wouldn't dare walking into no man's land.

"Mum and Dad are fighting," the half-drunk man replied.

"About what?"

"Domestic shit, I don't know."

"They seem to be bringing up your name…"

"They always do, don't they?" he shrugged, drinking whatever was left in his bottle.

Bahorel laughed soundly. "Sometimes I wonder if they do that because they love you or hate you the most…"

* * *

The atmosphere in the car was hostile. Éponine and Enjolras had ceased fire for a good while, and all that was left were the smoke and debris. Neither of them apologized; they were far too bloody stubborn to do that. Most of the times, they would just fuck their brains out senselessly and wake up in each other's arms as if nothing happened.

"Enjolras," Éponine spoke up, her voice low but clear.

"Hmm?" he made a non-committal sound as a response.

She paused as she went over the words she was about to say in her head. "You know I love you, right?"

"What's wrong?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth. 'Love' and 'sorry' were two words rarely said and never to be taken lightly. He knew that shit hit the fan when she dropped the 'L' word out of the blue like this.

"It's just… we've been together for so long; I don't want this whole talk about marriage to make things weird between us," she uttered, a crease appeared between her eyebrows.

He stole a glance at her. "Given how long we've been together, it's gonna take a hell lot more than that, don't you think?"

Éponine could hear a smile in his voice. Before she knew it, she let out a soft chuckle as relief washed over her. "You really need to stop taking Courfeyrac too seriously, though…"

"What can I say? The chap knows how to hit a nerve," he shrugged, pulling over in front of his office building.

"He sure does," she grinned in agreement.

"So," Enjolras sat up, "Would you like to come up and give me a hand with these papers?

"Sure, I'd give you a hand…" Éponine answered dubiously as she got out of the car.

Enjolras glared at her, his expression bordering on amusement and 'bitch, please'. He nudged her in the elbow jokingly and she batted his arm in retaliation. The play fight didn't last long since he pulled her into a kiss just as they rode up the elevator. His hand nestled on her hip, while her fingers traced along his perfectly-carved bone structure before finding the nape of his neck, willing him to stay there.

Éponine hardly paid any attention to where he was dragging her. His burning lips drinking her in made it exceptionally hard to focus on anything but. Her back hit the sharp edge of an office cubicle, allowing a muffled grunt to escape her mouth, apparently jolting her out for a moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this…" she murmured half-heartedly.

"There's no one else here," he murmured back, lips trailing down her jugular.

She sighed. "Are you sure?"

Enjolras stood on his full height with a smug smile plastered onto that god-like face. "What's the matter, Athena? Afraid of getting busted?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," he countered, bringing his lips back down to hers when suddenly –

"Oh, my God!" a young woman gasped.

He nearly jumped out of his skin in reflex and turned to the source of the sound. "Christine,"

"I am so sorry, I didn't –Enjolras?"

"Hi," she greeted sheepishly. Her pale, porcelain skin contrasted against the red creeping up her neck and cheeks.

"I was just here to pick up the paperwork Jean-Luc wanted me to finish," he managed to muster, scattering to his desk.

"Right,"

"This is my girlfriend, Éponine, by the way. Éponine, Christine; my colleague," he gestured at Éponine, who was anxiously smoothing down her crinkled white shirt. She tried not to add more awkwardness and just smile at her, but the other girl seemed to be too fixated on his butt.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," she said, her gaze still fixed on Enjolras, "I've always thought you were the 'married-to-your-work' type,"

"You never mentioned?" Éponine leaned on the desk next to her, feeling slightly annoyed.

"It never came up," he replied without looking up.

She studied this Christine woman for a moment. Her flaming red hair was up in a messy bun, a pair of half-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her sleek nose. Behind those glasses, her gaze was glued to the view of Enjolras bending down over his desk, shuffling through his papers and trays. Éponine let out a huff a little too audible for the room.

That seemed to snap Christine back into reality. "Do you need anything?"

"Uh, you wouldn't happen to know where _Monsieur_ Bernard's case report is, would you?" Enjolras turned around.

"I think it's in the archive room. Would you like me to get it for you?" she offered.

"It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, Christine," Enjolras curtly smiled as he walked past her and into the archive room.

She stuttered about before finally managing to bid him farewell (as well as Éponine, this time) and dashed off.

Éponine couldn't help but smile as she wandered to Enjolras' desk. It was rather bland of decorations, save for a French flag miniature and wooden-framed group photo from last Christmas. It wasn't their best picture of the evening, considering most of them were drunk. Bossuet had his eyes half-closed, Feuilly and Bahorel had their arms on a twisted angle as they had been wrestling for Marius' phone to hijack, Éponine was beetroot red from laughing, while Enjolras was red from the amount of alcohol they all had shoved him.

"Did you find it?" she asked when he emerged from the room.

He waved the file in reply and went on to pile up the scattered papers on his desk.

"So, tell me about Christine," she sat on the edge of his desk. "Is she a lawyer, too?"

"Paralegal," Enjolras corrected.

"She's surely head over heels for you,"

He frowned. "She's married, Ép."

"That didn't stop her from checking you out…"

"What can I say? My arse is irresistible," he shrugged lightly.

"Get the fuck out," she giggled, almost knocking down an empty cup off of his desk. The teaspoon clanged inside of it, which gave her an idea…

"Which one is Courfeyrac's desk?"

"It's the one on the end. Why?" Enjolras looked up to find her already skipping off, teaspoon in hand.

"May I ask why you're threatening to carve his heart out with a _spoon_?" Enjolras bemused.

"It's a blunt object; it would hurt a hell lot more," she replied simply, scribbling on a bright yellow Post-It note and stuck it on the spoon she laid strategically in the middle of his desk.

_** I'm coming for you. –É**_

"You're a psycho…" he laughed, walking off with one arm filled with paperwork and the other around her waist.

* * *

**A/N: National Exams are finally over! Woohoo! Freedom at last, how strange the taste... lol. I'm really glad to finally have the time to be more productive. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews you left for this fic. You guys really got the ball rolling for me and I deeply appreciate it. Do tell me what you think of this chapter, though! Hope you enjoyed it :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again, folks! I'd like to apologize for my absence. A few reasons; 1) Turns out I'm even busier after the National Exams. Everyone is making plans and there's still preparation classes to attend (Which I detest ugh), and 2) I have been having some personal issues, which made it difficult for me to write. I don't wanna bore you with the details, but I'm better now. Hopefully I'll be able to write better and update more often. But, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one :)**

**Special thanks to ChasingYou and TcEm for throwing me some really helpful ideas. This chapter is dedicated to you guys 3**

* * *

Éponine didn't see Courfeyrac for three days since she put the spoon on his office desk. When he finally set foot on their usual haunting place, he opted not to bring it up and act like nothing happened. He didn't even flinch when Éponine played with her spoon after she finished her dessert. His heart was intact, Éponine didn't get to murder anyone (which was a downside for her. Psycho.) And Enjolras didn't get annoyed by people pressing on about his love life. It was almost peaceful, albeit for a little while.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for about 48 hours since God or whoever it was up above thought it was funny to get on Enjolras' nerves again. He didn't believe the whole 'signs-for-the-universe' bullshit like Jehan or Marius. But this was getting ridiculous.

He went home from work to find bongo drums and monkey roars blaring from his television, along with Giselle Pontmercy, Marius and Cosette's five-year-old, snuggling on the couch with his girlfriend. Their eyes were fixed on the screen, except that the older girl's were glassy –so glassy that he began to wonder if she could see anything but a blurry haze through that.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted, unable to suppress the amused grin on his face.

"Uncle Enj, come watch the movie with us!" Giselle beamed.

He gladly obliged, sitting down next to her. Part of him was not surprised when the movie turned out to be Tarzan. Éponine was one of the toughest people he had ever known. But give her any Disney movie and she would lose her shit.

Éponine sniffled. "Hi..."

"Aww!"

"Shut up."

_ No matter what happens, you will always be my mother…_

A single tear escaped her left eye, which she quickly wiped off. "Oh, f–"

Enjolras quickly squeezed her shoulder before she could finish that most favorite word of hers in the whole wide world.

He sniggered some more when Éponine audibly hiccupped during Kerchak's death. Éponine, of course, felt the need to reassert her wounded badassery by punching his outstretched arm off of the back of the couch. He quietly yelped in response.

The little fuss appeared to have broken Giselle's dire concentration. Her head whipped back and forth to the two childish adults beside her before questioning, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Éponine quipped, "Your uncle is just being an a–"

"Ah, ah, ah…" Enjolras interjected patronizingly, reminding her to filter her choice of words once again.

She let out a noncommittal groan and got up from her seat. "I have to go to the bathroom,"

"Want us to pause the movie for you?" he offered.

"No, you guys go ahead and watch," she mumbled, shuffling off to the bathroom.

It wasn't until he realized he was smiling in content as Giselle nestled into his side that Enjolras' mind began to race. Children were another topic they never touched. Ever since a pregnancy scare very early in their relationship, they hadn't exactly been adamant to talk about it –let alone actually having it. But, it had been years since then, and the thought of coming home to something like _that_ didn't sound so bad at all.

He didn't budge until Éponine came out and asked Giselle how she liked the movie. She jumped out of her seat and began to go on about adopting Terk as a pet.

"A pet gorilla? Where is she going to fit in your house, Giselle?" Éponine gaped animatedly.

"She can sleep in my room," she replied lightly.

"She's going to need trees and lots of open spaces, though…"

"We have a backyard!"

Enjolras laughed soundly at her persistence. Éponine had better talk her out of it before the idea was passed onto her parents, possibly resulting in them actually adopting a gorilla (Because Marius was hardly capable of saying no to his daughter and Cosette's twisted mind might just think it was a great idea).

"Help me," she mouthed.

"Gorillas don't belong in the city," Enjolras spoke up. "They belong in the jungle, with their family of other gorillas."

The little girl frowned.

"Would you be happy if you're taken away to the jungle, without your mum and dad, or toys?"

She widened her eyes in horror and shook her head.

"Exactly."

Enjolras had no idea how to talk to little kids. He didn't know how to be sweet and affectionate like most of his friends, and he sure as hell did not know how to coo like adults liked to use on kids. He talked to Giselle in the only way he knew how to talk to people. Rationally, except in much simpler words. As an equal, with no condescending, patronizing nicknames.

His approach was not flawless, however. He failed to talk her out of going to the store down the street to buy some ice cream later that evening. She might have understood why taking a young gorilla to live in the city was not a good idea. But she couldn't see why having a wee bit of ice cream was, too. Of course, Éponine was no help since she was too much of a kid and a sweet tooth to decline.

This brought him to the second strike of the signs from the universe. He waited with crossed arms as the girls tried to decide whether they should get a Chunky Monkey or Mint Chocolate Cookie when an old woman passed by and commented,

"What a beautiful family you've got,"

"Oh, we're not –she's not my…" Enjolras stammered, trying to say something that wouldn't make him sound like he was kidnapping or disowning her. Giselle's blonde hair and brown eyes _were_ a bit similar to Enjolras and Éponine's. It was an honest mistake, really. But, he couldn't just say yes… could he?

The woman smiled gently as he struggled with words.

Enjolras huffed in defeat of his shrinking vocabulary and replied, "Not in the way you're probably thinking of,"

"But, still... wouldn't you like that?" the corner of her eye wrinkled as she winked at him before walking off.

The little question kept on ringing inside his head, buzzing like flies around his ears. _Wouldn't I like that?_ The scary part of it was he wasn't sure that he would. He liked spending time with Giselle, but he knew that raising a child was not that easy and the thought of Éponine feeding the little bugger nothing but Ben & Jerry's worried him a bit.

For the first time in his life, as much as he hated to admit it, Enjolras _envied_ Marius for already having it all figured out.

It only got worse when Marius and Cosette came around to pick her up after the corporate dinner they had to attend that night.

"Did you have fun playing pretend parents?" Cosette teased him good-naturedly.

"What?"

"Ép told me you were being particularly… adorable with Giselle earlier,"

"I wasn't being adorable!" he protested.

The brunette huffed. "Please. She had you wrapped around her little finger!"

"And all these times I thought it would take Enjolras an army of Frost giants, a massive dose of tranquilizer and several other kinds of drugs to do that…" Marius mused, carrying the sleeping princess in his arms.

"I'm somehow not surprised. You _would_ make a great dad," Cosette chided, shrugging as if she was saying the most normal thing ever.

He gave her a questioning look and a short laugh to hide his awkwardness.

She leaned closer for a whisper on her way out. "I know that look. The last time I've seen that, Marius knocked me up less than a month later,"

_ Strike three._

Éponine must have caught the tension in his face, because she broke him out of his reverie by asking, "What's up with you?"

He didn't realize he was holding back an exasperated groan until he let it out. "This is madness."

"Madness? This is Sparta!" she chirped with a giggle, before biting her lip as it didn't really diffuse the tension in his face. "What is?"

"These 'signs from the universe'," he air-quoted, "I mean, God, the guys have just stopped bugging us about it, but now dear old universe has interfered!"

"Okay, now you sound like Jehan. What the fuck are you going on about?" Éponine raised her eyebrows.

"Giselle, the old lady in the store, Cosette teasing me earlier… it's like everyone –_everything_ is trying to tell me to get married and raise a family with you and… I don't know, maybe we should just get it over with."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I mean, would you?" Enjolras asked a little more carefully, cowering a little as there was almost a hint of poison in her tone of voice.

"I don't want to fucking do it because everyone and everything is pushing you into it!" she fumed, her voice raising an octave and ten decibels. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"I'm just saying! What _are_ we, Ép? Seriously. You said we might as well be married, commitment-wise, but we're not. This isn't exactly the most functional relationship either, as you can probably tell…"

"So, you think it's acceptable to ask me to marry you like that, given how _dysfunctional_ we are?"

"Look, Ép –"

"You know what? I'm going to bed. I'm really tired," she said as she sauntered off to the bedroom.

"Éponine, wait…" he trailed a good few steps behind her almost half-heartedly, partly to give her some space and partly because he didn't know what to say if he _did_ catch up to her.

He was met with a pillow to the face once he reached the door.

"Fuck off."

He knew that if he had got into bed with her, they would just ravish each other furiously and hungrily until they forgot what they were fighting about. Maybe they needed a little space to solve this. So Enjolras took the pillow and settled on the couch, turning on the television.

The TV was left unwatched as he zoned out again. The tiny bits and pieces played out in his mind over and over like a broken tape. One particular part echoed more clearly than the others.

_ Maybe we should just get it over with…_

He groaned at the words that came out of his words. It was amazing how his silver tongue could win cases and move people to fight for a cause, but turned against him the moment his personal feelings got involved. He cursed himself for being so stupid. It wasn't the first time he slipped, but it was by far the most sensitive topic they had ever struck. He cursed himself some more for that.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not sure I like this chapter very much. But, then again, your opinions are the ones that matter, my lovely readers. So, please take your time to tell me what you think and review if you can! Thanks a bunch :) xx**


	6. Chapter 6

It was around 3 in the morning and Éponine was still falling in and out of slumber. The pouring rain outside the window had done nothing good for her nerves. She tossed and turned in the unfamiliarly empty bed for quite some time before finally giving up, jumping out and into the living room.

Enjolras was exactly where she thought he would be –hunched up in front of his laptop on the dining table. There were no used coffee mugs anywhere, which meant he had no intention of staying up. A copy of a Study in Scarlet, Hamlet and a book about Norse mythology –which were a strange combination and not ones Enjolras usually read were sprawled around the coffee table, indicating that he was trying to fall asleep.

"What are you doing up?" Éponine drawled, squinting at the harsh light from his laptop.

"Work," he replied curtly, his slender pianist fingers still typing away.

She drew closer, leaning on one of the chairs. "It's late, Apollo. You should get some sleep,"

"I'm fine. You go ahead,"

Éponine sighed. "It's 3 in the morning, just come up to bed… please?"

"You were the one who told me to fuck off," he said matter-of-factly.

"Well, you're not getting any sleep out here, so…"

Enjolras had only opened his mouth to retaliate, but instead, a yawn came out. He didn't even have to look up to her –he could _feel_ her victorious smirk boring into him.

"Fine," he bit out, shutting his laptop down and followed her suit.

It seemed like she did it with no other intentions, seeing that she kept her distance from him in the bed. She stayed on her own side with her back facing him while he laid flat on his back next to her curled-up figure. It was weird to have Éponine so close yet so far from him. The room was so silent, it was almost too loud. The duality that felt so exciting whenever they were together became the elephant in the room.

Although his eyes were tired, they just wouldn't close and let his mind rest. Instead, he found himself staring at the ceiling and listening to Éponine's steady breaths that matched his. He felt like a creep doing that, because _who the fuck listens to his girlfriend's breathing while she sleeps?_

"Ép, are you awake?" he called her out gently.

She huffed. "Yeah,"

He realized that there was no way they were going to sleep on it and talk in the morning. Who were they kidding? Enjolras took a moment to compose himself for what was coming.

"Look, about what I said earlier…" he started.

Éponine shuffled around the covers to face him intently, practically demanding for an explanation.

"It was an incredibly inconsiderate and stupid thing for me to say. I shouldn't have pushed you into it, especially when neither of us knows what we really want in this relationship."

She just stared at him like she was waiting for more words to come out. He really didn't know what else to say and an impromptu speech about _this_ was not his expertise.

"I'm sorry," was all he could muster.

He watched her studiously as her eyes softened and lowered, her gaze fell on the empty space between them. She reached for his hand almost hesitatingly before lacing her fingers between his. "You're right. It _would_ be inconsiderate and stupid to just 'get it over with' like what everyone's been implying, but… you can't keep these things –these thoughts to yourself, Enjolras. How are we supposed to figure out what we want if we never talk about it?"

"What do _you_ want in our relationship?" he jumped straight to the point.

"Wow, you certainly didn't waste a lot of time dancing around the edge," she remarked. "I don't know. It never crossed my mind,"

"Really? Not once?"

"I spent a good part of my life living on a day-to-day basis, Enjolras. Unlike you, I'm not used to look that far ahead and plan in advance. Besides, I'm happy the way we are now. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am, it's just… hanging out with Giselle, among other things, made me think…"

"You want to have kids?"

"That's the thing; I'm not sure that I do," Enjolras said, "Back there, I thought, 'This might not be so bad', but it's different. Raising a kid is not that easy. I don't want us to rush into it only to regret it in a few years. What if things don't turn out okay? What if I drop him or forget to feed him or –"

"You're thinking way ahead of yourself. Calm down," she interrupted.

"I'm aware that I'm not good at this. I'm not like Jehan; I don't have a romantic bone in my body. I'm not like Combeferre either, who's great with kids –I think he's going to be a great father someday. Or Marius –" he laughed softly at the thought of envying _Marius_, of all people.

"I'm not like them. Hell, I'm barely functioning emotionally. You've been with me long enough to see the mistakes I made and stupid things I did. You know the damage I could do. I mean, what if I make one mistake and mess everything up somewhere along the way?" he rasped out the last sentence, almost to himself.

Enjolras, the fearless marble statue warrior, were looking down at her with eyes wide like a lost child and hand clutching hers as if his life depended on it. It felt so out of character of him to be so visibly worried –or just downright afraid. But, then again, he was only human after all.

She scooted closer until her chest was pressed against his side. "We don't have to figure this out tonight. These things take time,"

"I know, but –" another yawn cut him off mid-sentence again.

"Get some sleep, Apollo," she giggled, willing him to close his eyes with her hand.

_ One step at a time._

* * *

Although Enjolras was naturally an early riser, he cut himself some slack and slept in that Saturday morning. The sun was already high when he blinked awake. Next to him was a curled-up Éponine with part of her face buried into the pillow. Her lips were slightly pouted and her dark brown hair sprawled free across the white fabric underneath. The absence of weary lines on her features seemed to de-age her. In her slumber, she looked innocent –almost childlike, even.

He traced up and down her bare arms as he took in the rarely-seen peaceful side of his… well, girlfriend, for most intentions and purposes. It wasn't long after that she began to stir. She had always been a light sleeper, after all.

She opened one eye and starred at him for a moment before finally murmuring, "You know pulling off an Edward Cullen and watch a girl sleep is kind of creepy, right?"

"Well, good morning to you, too," he countered, smacking her bent thigh affectionately.

Éponine smiled lazily at him, her eyelids still heavy from sleep.

Enjolras felt like her lips had been screaming at him, demanding for his attention. He craned his neck to touch them with his own, and she gladly met him halfway.

The kiss was electrifying, jolting them awake from their previously hazy state. His hands were on her face, caressing her dimpled cheeks before trailing down her sides. Éponine raked her hand through the wild mess of blonde hair as he rolled on top of her, drinking her in like desert spring. He ravished her neck slowly, passionately, in every way he knew she loved, when –

_ Buzz._

"For fuck's sake…" Éponine groaned audibly.

_Buzz-buzz-buzz!_

"I'll be right back," he reluctantly got off of the bed, determined to send away whoever the stupid cockblocker was at the door.

Unfortunately for him, that cockblocker was none other than the man they sometimes regretted to even call him a friend, Courfeyrac. He beamed so brightly, Enjolras felt the need to squint as if he was looking directly at the sun.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Courfeyrac asked, obviously not sorry at all.

"Yes, you did," Enjolras mumbled darkly. "What are you doing here, Courf?"

Instead of answering to his so-called 'chief', Courfeyrac barged in and grinned cheekily. "That's very uncharacteristic of you to wake up late. What the hell did you do with Éponine last night?"

"Talking."

"Pfft! Yeah, right…" he sniggered, casually striding towards the bedroom.

Courfeyrac stood by the door and greeted Éponine, "Good morning, Your Majesty! Please do get out of bed and get dressed as quick as you can or else thy humble servant –yours truly, will drag your buck naked arse out myself, given the tight schedule we have…"

"You're being awfully cheery this morning," Éponine remarked, rolling out of bed with a yawn

Surprisingly enough, his face faltered a little at the sight of Éponine's attire which consisted of a black tank top and a pair of old red shorts. "You're clothed."

Éponine was dumbfounded by his statement and chose to ignore it, dragging her feet lazily to the bathroom instead.

"You guys really spent the night talking?" he turned to Enjolras.

The blonde man shrugged.

"Unbelievable,"

"What did you say you were doing here?" Enjolras repeated his earlier question.

"We're going to Toys R US to get Gav's birthday present," Courfeyrac replied.

"He's turning 19, Courf. Don't you think he's a little too old for that?"

"No one is ever too old for toys, my dear old friend," he remarked.

Enjolras glared curiously at him. "Why do I get the feeling that you are more adamant than you should be?"

"Were you expecting me to act chill, buy the present and leave like a proper adult?" the younger man guffawed. "Hell, no! Ép and I are going to have the time of our lives there, man!"

Enjolras rolled his eyes. How he survived leading a pack of overgrown children all these years was truly beyond him.

* * *

A/N: credits to Pasek & Paul's "Along The Way" which inspired the first half of this chapter! I kept listening to Aaron's version on repeat as I wrote it and that's pretty much how I imagined Enjolras' expressions to look like during that scene. Also special thanks to my girl, **desmondacc**, for pitching in ideas for the second half of this chapter. Some of the conversations here are taken from _our_ conversations irl ;) So, special thanks to her!

I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please tell me what you think if you can, because it would mean the world to me and would also help me improve on my writing. I'm still learning after all... hehe. I'm also on Tumblr under '**gooneranalogheart**'. Don't be shy to say hello, leave something in my ask box or maybe even make this fic a graphic or fanmix :P (I'm not sure this fic deserves any of that, though haha)

See ya next time!


	7. Chapter 7

Éponine first met Courfeyrac at a house party back in their university days. The memory of that fateful evening was hazy from weed and alcohol intoxicating them. It might have had something to do with playing strip pool –Éponine lost her shirt early in the game and Courfeyrac's attention to the game quickly went out the window- and waking up in each other's arms fully-clothed the next morning. They had no idea how they didn't sleep with each other at the end of the night, seeing how awfully horny they got when they were drunk, but they were grateful. They ended up having a Doctor Who marathon whilst nursing their hangover and were inseparable ever since.

It had been a long time since university. Courfeyrac hung up his 'hunting' boots and settled down with Jehan. Éponine was in a committed (albeit non-conventional) relationship with, surprisingly, Enjolras. They were no longer acting stupid on most days of the week. She was now an assistant curator at the Luxembourg, while he became an attorney at a respectable law firm in the city alongside Enjolras. Long story short, they grew up.

But, every once in a while, they grew down –so far down, past their wild university days to the ones where everything was all rainbows and unicorns.

"Hey, Ép, should we get him one of those?" Courfeyrac pointed at a box of inflatable bouncy castle.

She thought for a moment, "I don't know. I think that's more of your thing than Roche's, isn't it?"

"True…" he drawled and added, "I should have this for my birthday next month!"

"Ooh, and face painting, too!" Éponine beamed in excitement.

"Do you think the guys would be into those?"

"I think they'd play it cool and say you're absolutely ridiculous if you say it now, but I'm willing to bet they're going to have fun with it in the end," she guessed, "And Bahorel knows how to install this thing. He used to do that back in high school,"

"Really? He told you that?"

"Yeah, he said something about having scored a chick in there."

"I am not going to let this be a place for adultery. The bouncy castle should be a sacred ground, goddamn it!" he grunted, appalled and defensive.

Éponine only giggled as she saw a revelation dawning in his eyes.

"Although, now that you've mentioned it, fucking in the castle kind of sounds… kinky…" Courfeyrac thought out loud.

A middle-aged woman within three feet radius turned to glance at them in horror.

"Not with kids, of course! Jesus Christ, I'm not a pedophile. I have a boyfriend –he's of legal age as well, obviously," Courfeyrac blurted out in panic.

The poor woman walked away with the most Tumblr meme-worthy disdainful look they had ever received (which was saying something).

"I know, right?" Éponine gushed as soon as she was out of sight, "I'm not sure neither Enjolras nor Jehan would be overly fond of that, though…"

He sighed. "I sometimes wish we were together in that sense. I mean, we've got a lot in common, right, Ép?"

"Do we?"

"Of course we do! We're both massive Whovians, have the similar sick sense of humor, you love Toys R Us; so do I…"

"You prefer dudes and so do I…" she added.

"And then I remember why we wouldn't work!" he mused. "Come on, let's go have a scooter race!"

To this day, they still could not decide if a scooter race was one to regret or not.

* * *

Combeferre drew the hospital blue curtain open.

"Hey, Combeferre the Pedo Bear!" Courfeyrac, who was perched on the hospital bed with a cast covering his left hand, whooped a little too loud for the whole ER population to turn heads.

"Do you mind? I'm at work here!" he hissed. "What the hell happened?"

"I got a boxer's fracture. You know, being a badass and everything… No biggie,"

Éponine rolled her eyes. "We had a scooter race and he crashed into a Lego shelf."

"Ooh, did anyone catch it on camera?" was the first thing that Combeferre asked.

Courfeyrac deadpanned. "I fractured my fucking metacarpal and the first thing you asked was 'did anyone catch it on camera?' You are a _disgrace_ as a doctor!"

"And you are a disgrace as an adult human being, my friend," the resident pediatrician patted his disheveled head comfortingly.

"That's hardly a secret…" he grumbled.

"There are no secrets better kept than the secret everybody guesses," Combeferre quoted.

"George Bernard Shaw,"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."

"I live with _Jehan_, 'Ferre," the lawyer reminded.

"I should get you home now, buddy," Éponine helped him off of the bed, "He might be a little high,"

"Did he even get anesthesia?" Combeferre knit his eyebrows.

"No, he just ate a fuck load of Skittles earlier."

He nodded as if it was the most common thing in the world and saw the two overgrown children on their way.

"I'll take the next cab. You go home to your Apollo," Courfeyrac said when she finally succeeded hailing a cab.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You look like you could pick up wherever the hell you two left off this morning,"

Éponine frowned at him curiously.

"I'm not blind, Ép," he winked.

"Sappy git," she kissed his cheek before sliding into the cab.

Courfeyrac could be a real troublemaker and cause chaos only to watch it unravel before his eyes. But, sometimes, he would make it up with little things he didn't even realize was godsend. He would keep things light around, regardless of how unorthodox his method was. He was their center, after all.

Éponine found her Apollo on the couch in dire concentration as he caught up with this week's Hannibal. She and Grantaire managed to get him hooked after convincing him that it 'was not the typical procedural cop show'. Enjolras was pretty skeptic about it, but was proven wrong within five minutes into the pilot. Of course, he wouldn't admit that out loud to anyone…

She threw herself onto him, limbs and lips tangling with each other. It didn't take him more than two seconds to respond, taken aback as he might have been. His hand secured her position at the waist, whilst she locked her fingers in his mussed blonde hair.

When the oxygen in their lungs were running out, they pulled away and immediately noted the faint red flush in each other's face.

"Hey,"

"Hey," he murmured back somewhat gingerly, before every part of them were touching once again.

They didn't even make it to the bedroom.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry that this one is so short, compared to the six previous ones. I was trying to focus on more Courfeyrac and Eponine's friendship and this is how it turned out. Not exactly satisfied with it, but then again, when am I ever satisfied with my own writing?

On the brighter note, I graduated high school and got into the university I wanted! No more prep classes, more time to write *does the happy dance* lol

Please do review if you can. I'd like to know what you readers think about the story because it helps me so much in writing this. Thank you for reading!


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